Summer in Napa - By Marina Adair Page 0,47

uh-huhed and yupped the call to death, he said, “You got it. Yeah, you too.”

He hung up. “That was Corbin. His mom invited the minister’s wife to her Tupperware party, and she was concerned that Corbin was bringing a taken woman.”

“Will you stop meddling?” She grabbed her phone back. “I have this handled.”

“Really? Because you’re so worried about being rude that Corbin would have been down on one knee before he realized you were just being polite.”

She looked at the screen, which was conveniently open to her Facebook wall, showing nine more comments, including one from the minister’s wife and three of her bachelors asking if they were still on next week. “And if I type yes, then what?”

“Corbin finds a new date, and you have tomorrow night free to cook us salmon eleven different ways. Plus, he kind of has a thing for the cute new pharmacist over at Bottles and Bottles, who his mom also invited.”

God, it would be so easy. Three little letters sent into cyberspace would release her from any more get-to-know-you coffees and want-to-invite-me-in wines. She’d already had to answer so many questions about why she got divorced, if she was over Jeffery, was she ready to find love again, or, the worst, was she looking for a little rebound action. It was a simple solution and oh so tempting. It was also scary to think of placing her trust in another man…a man whose smile alone had the ability to melt the panties off women everywhere.

Marc loved women and sex—simultaneously and in excess. Lexi didn’t multitask all that well, and she wasn’t all that sure that she was even any good at sex. Not that it was on the table. Plus, having your husband cheat on you was bad enough. Having the town know that your fake boyfriend spent his nights with other women would be humiliating. Not that they would know he was fake, but if she couldn’t even keep a family guy like Jeffery satisfied, there was no way people would believe she could catch and hold the St. Helena Stud.

No, Lexi had learned the hard way what could happen if you didn’t clarify the other person’s expectations in an arrangement. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Okay, hypothetically, I say yes. How would this even work?”

He looked surprised that she was even considering this. “You say yes, we see each other in public a few times, and the town thinks we’re dating. Your grandma and the bachelors lay off, and you get to focus on work.”

“Dating defeats the purpose. I need time to cook.”

“After a few public lunches and taking Wingman to the park—” A bark of agreement erupted, and Lexi patted the dog’s head. “People will get the point. Then when you disappear for days on end in your apartment to cook, I’ll be working on the Summer Wine Showdown. Everyone will just assume we are in the honeymoon phase and can’t keep our hands off each other.”

“They’ll think we are sleeping together,” Lexi said, her voice going a little shrill.

“Sleeping will be the last thing they’ll think we are doing,” he said in a low, seductive voice that sent chills all over her body. She didn’t like that her heart kicked in at the idea. Or that her panties might have gone a little wet.

“I want to be able to cook and experiment”—she held up a silencing hand—“man free. Not have everyone think that I’m another one of your many women. I mean, what happens when you get caught with Cindy or Mandy?” Or Cindy and Mandy. “Would I have to break up with myself for you?”

“First off,” he said, taking a step forward and looking really pissed and a bit hurt, “when I am in a relationship, I don’t cheat. Period.”

Marc took another step closer. Lexi took one backward.

“How would you know? You’ve never been in a relationship.”

“I just know.” Marc was so close that she took a final step back. As her heels rammed into the bottom stair, she tipped backward and should have landed with a boom. But when she opened her eyes she found herself upright, pressed between the entry wall and one surly Italian.

“Um, okay.” She swallowed, trying to casually lean back against the wall and failing dismally.

“After the bistro is open and the Showdown is over, we’ll go our own ways, just tell people it was an amicable parting,” he clarified.

“That didn’t work so well for me before.”

“Okay, you do the breaking up, then.

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